


Sweet Fire

by FuzzyAnkleSocks



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 06:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15625071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuzzyAnkleSocks/pseuds/FuzzyAnkleSocks
Summary: Asra has left her furious and Opal can't stand to stay another minute in the shop. She goes wandering at night and finds a drink a bit too strong for her and a man she can't resist.





	Sweet Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BepsiiCola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BepsiiCola/gifts).



Restraint of her magic when her emotions ran high was lacking. Asra’s every hair stood on end even as he made a point of avoiding her eyes. The charge in the room was reminiscent of standing on a mountain top in a lightning storm. He hated to be so brief in his goodbyes. But it was probably better for both of them.

He had stayed not even three days. A master’s purpose was to teach a student, not point out books to read and then disappear. Asra was likely where the idea of the disappearing magician found its roots.

She had flipped through one of the books, though she retained little. The tome had been opened not long after dawn, and yet It seemed only a moment before sunset bathed the cottage in orange. She wouldn't be staying in. Asra’s magic never lingered except in a few choice spots, but his scent and personal touches did. Like the new jar of his favorite tea blend that she hated. For one bitter moment she considered throwing it out the window.

So she gathered her heaviest shawl about herself and stepped out into the night. She didn't watch where her boots took her.

She chose alleys and side streets specifically because they were unfamiliar. The paving stones under foot became sparse and uneven. If she'd been to this part of Vesuvia it had been been a time beyond her limited recollection.

She was a night owl by nature, used to her shop’s lantern being the last source of light on her street.

After turning that last corner she came across the first break in the dingy silence in perhaps an hour. A tavern, fingers of light escaping through the shuttered windows to tickle at the surface of the canal. The noise escaping its walls was effused with laughter, and that was invitation enough.

She could only just make out the sign “The Rowdy Raven” hanging above the door on rusted chains.

It was warm from all the bodies as much as the fire roaring in the corner of the room. She snaked through them to the bar with a simple request.

“Something strong.” The man laughed hard and grabbed a honey colored bottle. She gave him a look at the petite glass he poured it into.

She threw it back, it didn't seem like a sipping kind of drink. It scorched to her stomach, embers dancing the rest of the way to her toes. 

She gave a thumbs up through the coughing fit. Once she settled he told her the price. Clearly she just partaken of liquid attempted murder. No drink so potent had any business being so cheap. The mindful part of her brain hadn't finished its protest before she slid the glass toward the barkeep and threw another back.

“Just what may I ask am I poisoning myself with?” She gave the barkeep a razor grin. 

“In Prakna they call it something like Sweet Fire, it's my own bastardization so I've been going back and forth between Sucker Punch and NYF.”

“NYF?” she queried as she took a tentative sip of the third shot he’d poured her. There was a hint of a melon once you got past the burn.

“Now you're fucked,” he said with a charming grin that was only barely diminished by a few missing teeth. “In fact, I named it after the first patron I got to try it out-”

“Can't seem to go a single night without airing my dirty laundry can you?” The man who stepped close behind her was tall, even compared to the beefy bartender. When he spoke she caught the scent of his own personal poison. Something spiced with cinnamon. 

“It wasn't half as madcap as Rory makes it out to be I swear.” Leaning his elbow against the bar the stranger was eye level with her. Only one pale eye fixed upon her with a razor smile.

He didn't beckon with anything more than that smile and his gaze. She nearly tripped over her feet following him to a table in the corner, ever so slightly more shadowed than the rest.

“I may as well tell you the story myself,” he searched her face “and quickly, you have half an hour at most before you're completely senseless.”

He used her empty shot glass to illustrate what he could remember of his escape after swiping a rather ornate saber. She took sips from his tankard. Some kind of delightful spiced rum.

“Couldn't tell you why I even wanted the damn thing, it was an eyesore and,” He noticed that she'd started nursing his drink, hand focused on her lips when she took a swallow “frankly I'm useless with anything longer than my...dagger.” His eyes, already intense, took a hungry edge as he finished his short tale.

“Much more intriguing, would be how you ended up here, all alone, so late.”

Her mood turned on a pin. The flames becoming longer and more erratic went unnoticed.

“I’m being treated like a child!” Her grip on the drink tightened as she took a chug. Her acquaintance made a sweeping gesture for the barman and a young woman brought him another to match the tankard he expected he would not be getting back.

“Need something else Julian?”

“I’m just grand, thanks.” He showed his teeth and put a few coins into her palm.

Looking back at his table mate he found her head resting on her hands staring at him openly. Whatever her grievances, they'd been washed away, at least momentarily, by liquor.

“Julian is a nice name. I like it.” Her eyes were glazed. There'd been several eyes keeping tabs on her. It was time to get this woman to her home before she found something even less savory than himself.

He let coins scatter from across the table, at a glance probably more than a few extra.

“I'll be your escort this evening.” He bent over with a flourish his hand outstretched for her. She was in no state to pick up on his mocking tone.

She didn’t take it anyway. A hand was rested upon every table as she teetered past them to the door. She swayed like a dandelion. Right into the biggest patron in the room.

“Watch where you're going girlie.” he spoke out of the side of his mouth, not bothering to even stop draining his tankard. He was turning back to his cards when the drink of the man next to him was up ended over his shaved head.

“Nooo, nooo you wAtch where YOU’RE going!” It was the only time you could hear a cough in the Rowdy Raven. Julian quickly wrapped an arm around her waist to usher her out before she ended up a new decoration on the wall. The mounting tension was broken by another table mate trying, and failing miserably, to contain his laughter. Julian couldn’t fault him. She was like a mouse telling a cat to go screw itself. The moment over, the patron was making to stand with a fresh mug of beer for him and the man's whose previous one was soaking into his cotton shirt

As Julian opened the door to guide her out the bartender called after the pair.

“Hey,” he barely started before he had to hold onto the bar, slamming his fist and shaking holding in his own amusement “take care of that one, I like her.” He threw a crooked grin Julian’s way as he helped her shuffle out. 

She put more of her weight on him once they were in the night.

“Where exactly am I taking you?” he tipped her chin up at him.

“Nope.” Was her only response, taking a fistful of fabric in each hand and burying her face in his chest. He probably should have been irritated. She was warm and looking down at her he caught a sweet smell from her hair. And he’d never admit how disgustingly romantic his mind became when drenched in drink.

Julian was trying to coax her for where she lived, when she started to sag and he had to catch her.

Out cold. He sighed and picked her up, perhaps it wasn’t the most gentlemanly thing, but he slung her over his shoulder considering the chances of her vomiting in the near future. He only teetered a moment with the new uneven weight.

Mazelinka’s home was closer than Julian’s current nest. Having to use the front door rather than the window Julian nearly bent double to cross the threshold without smacking his cargo’s head against the door frame. He tried to ignore hot breath on his nape. It was convenient, but had the older woman been there it would've been better. Julian felt guilty when he did so, but crashing at hers to be nursed was something he cherished.

His feet always hung over the edge of Mazelinka’s spare bed, but she looked small in it. He never would have done it, if he thought for a second she’d recall it, but Julian spread the orange and red patchwork quilt over her, even pulling her shoes off. She caught his sleeve before he could withdraw.

“Thank you Julian. For not taking me home.” her eyes were half lidded, giving a sultry effect. He had to remind himself it was simply because she was moments from slipping back into unconscious.

“Ha, that’s a new one. Your welcome….” He was really only sober in comparison to her, he didn’t even know her name.

“Opal.” it was the last thing she said before drifting off. Watching her looking so comfortable made his own weariness hit like a sledgehammer. Julian wadded up an extra blanket putting it at the edge of the bed. He sat on the floor letting his head fall back on it. He managed to kick one boot off before passing out himself.

His back was stiff from spending hours in the awkward position.

At first he thought the fingernails grazing his scalp were the last of a pleasant dream washing away. But the delicious tug as the hand tangled in his hair while pulling away sent far too strong a shiver down his spine to be imaginary.

“I liked that noise.” Opal was cocooned in the quilt save the arm stretched out. She gathered a handful of auburn and gave it an experimental pull. Julian made another throaty groan and leaned into her hand. He found her attractive last night. In the soft morning light her alert eyes held him as surely as a noose. A small fraction of that may have been his hangover.

She kept her grip as she scooted further back on the bed guiding Julian to lay next to her. Opal’s cheek was against his while her nails lazily scraping up and down the side of his neck. They both slowly settled into the mist between sleep and waking.

He drifted off again. Eventually his rare rest interrupted was by a sunbeam angled at his face.

The realization she left had hurt but wasn't unexpected. He was more surprised he cared. He'd been deeper in his cups than he’d let on, or he would have avoided getting attached so quickly. As comfortable as he felt. Shifting to his back he stared at the ceiling. He couldn't think of a single thing worth getting out the bed for.

He smelled bacon and heard footsteps disturbing the old floor boards. Julian arranged himself to look as pitiful as possible, Mazelinka always held back the full force of her scolding until he was in decent shape.

It was Opal. Her arms visibly straining with two plates overcrowded with food. She just barely fit them on the bedside table.

She studied him intensely for several seconds. Even sober his breath caught.

“Good to know your enjoying the view.” He leaned back on his elbows shrugging, his undershirt falling down one shoulder, showing even more of what was already plenty of skin.

She stepped between his spread knees. And handed him the canteen she’d had slung over her shoulder.

“I'm surprised you can bring yourself to be so lively. When I woke up my mouth tasted like lizard's eyes,” he guzzled the water proffered while Opal detailed her morning. “Once I could actually drag myself from the bed there was a market, -i didn't even know there was one in this part of town- so I bought some items for breakfast and here we are.”

He handed her the canteen back. She didn't move from between his knees until he went for a plate. They ate in comfortable silence, Julian wasn't a big eater but he swallowed more than was strictly comfortable since she'd gone to the trouble of cooking for him.

She looked so warm and inviting curled back into the bed (he hoped Mazelinka had a busy day) Julian was tempted to join her. But first he went to the basin of water in the corner of the room; he felt rivulets of water dampen his shirt as he scrubbed at his face. He may have hunched over just a bit when he moved the eye patch to dab at the corner of his eye.

Picking up a nearby hand mirror he almost barked with laughter at the mess he was. If Julian had meant to act as some prince charming he was lacking the correct costume. 

He turned to see she was staring unabashedly. He could feel his skin going hot but managed to maintain eye contact for the few steps back to the edge of the bed. Only to find he wasn't completely sure of his own intentions.

She was inviting and Julian touch starved. But he recalled the anger she smothered the night before. Was he the roguish scoundrel the lady dashed off with into the evening to get back at her lover? He supposed that was a part he did have the look for. Or sobriety might have brought back any decorum she possessed and she was simply returning a favor.

She was laying on the bed. But she was curled like a cat, not exactly the body language of someone interested in an illicit affair. Perhaps she was waiting for the last of her hangover to pass. The last time Julian had drank what she had he’d paid for it for the entirety of the next day.

Opal was tired of him standing there musing to himself. Getting on her knees on the bed she was nearly eye level. He resembled a rabbit in a snare when her hands wrapped around his neck.

She’d wanted him from the moment she saw the play of the shifting light in the tavern on the sharp planes of his face. Julian certainly felt the tremble in the fingers laced behind his neck as her lips met his in an uncertain, chaste kiss.

This was surely far more than Julian deserved. But it would hardly be the first time he took something he had no right to. He circled his arms around her waist, pulling her flush with him. He held her tight. She nipped at his lip demanding access. He moaned as he let her. She was almost feral, leaning harder into him from her perch on the bed.

“Get on the damn bed.” Julian obliged, ending up on top only because that's where she wanted him. His head felt light and his body heavy as she lifted her hips to grind against him through her clothes. He shuddered when her hands dug in to his hips to intensify the friction.

Opal decided he was beautiful in addition to handsome. The look of being completely lost in sensation when she had only just begun spurred her on. She didn't bother to completely remove his shirt. It hung about his waist only because it was still tucked into his breeches. Her tongue met with a trail of moisture left on his stomach. She traced a hot trail up it to his pale pink nipple.

The small tease of her canine grazing it was torture.

“More.” He pleaded. Pleasure. Pain. He needed everything she saw fit to gift him. She let her tooth sink in just a little. Julian arched back, earning himself red gouges on his hips as he did so. 

Too lost to even think about the consequence. For it to even occur to him it'd be impossible for her to miss the glowing arcane symbol on his throat from her vantage looking up at him from his chest.

She didn't give it an ounce of attention past her initial notice. Opal was as wrapped up in lust as Julian. Otherwise she would've felt just how powerful the magick playing across his skin was

As it was she simply switched her mouth to his other nipple as a hand played with the one already swollen and red. He was overwrought. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. Rapid and hot breath playing on her skin.

His torso crushed against hers denied access to his chest. So instead hands trailed to his waist from her shoulder. Thumbs just barely rubbing circles in the skin just above his breeches. His breath would stutter when they dipped below for a moment.

Julian was so stiff against her thigh it must have been torture. Cupping him through the fabric made him hiss like he'd been cut. He bit lightly into her neck, it only barely stifled the sounds he made.

Her self control snapped In half. The laces only given a short attempt, barely loosened before she simply started to force the tight fabric down his hips. Julian helped with desperate enthusiasm. The head of his cock was the same dusky color of his lips and a drop of precum welled as soon as she gripped him. Finally with nothing between it and her hands. He was pleading into her skin. Not that a word he said was intelligible.  
Opal took her hand away and he went boneless before remembering himself quickly and taking some of his weight off her.

She put Julian on his back with a hand pushing on his shoulder and her clothed thigh between his bare ones.

He already looked debauched. He caught his breath while she pulled off his one remaining boot and the clothing from around his ankles. Once Julian was totally bare He pulled Opal to his lap. As he worked to get rid of her shirt she kept distracting him, biting from his shoulder to his neck and grinding down onto him. She giggled as she helped him disentangle a button that snagged in her hair.

“You're too beautiful.” He hoped she felt half as stricken as he did looking at her. Julian kissed between her breasts and up her chest. She was focused on the feel of his lips, caught off guard by bottoms already slid halfway down her thighs.

Julian paused. Blue eyes darkened by pupils blown wide. A small bit of wetness making her panties see through at her entrance.

She took advantage pushing him flat on his back. She pulled her nails leaving red tracks and she explored downward. Opal glanced up at him often to see him forcing himself to look, shaking with the effort of not arching his back or closing his eyes.

Her tongue delicately licked at the liquid dribbling from him while gripping his thighs..

Julian whined. She delighted at the tremble that ran the length of his body. He was caught between two desires. There was no gentleness or easing him into the sensation when Opal finally took his cock into her mouth. He was bereft when she pulled away after just a few moments. Then bites were gifted along his inner thighs. Up and up until her lips would've brushed his needy member if she turned her head. And then she began mid thigh on the other leg.

Needed to do something about her wetness. Wanted to touch and taste and stretch. But she made it so fucking hard to do anything at all. She watched his face as her lips wrapped around his cockhead. Taking the length slowly until her nose was tickled by wiry auburn hairs.

When she pulled back after several dips of her head tears were in the corner of her eyes and he was overcome with the need to see her face as delirious with pleasure as his surely was.

“I want-” He stopped surprised by how hoarse he sounded. 

“What do you want?” A teasing lilt. He couldn't stop his grin. Not that he tried.

“I want those panties off. I want that dripping cunt planted on my face. I want you to hold onto me for dear life when your whole body starts to shake.” The silly thing. Thinking for a moment Julian would be embarrassed to voice such things when she'd already done as she pleased to him.

Surely not as red as him but he was pleased to watch the flush travel up her chest to her face.

She stood up to slip that last scrap of cloth off. She was wetter than before. Watching his reactions and hearing his dirty mouth excited her. He pulled at her wanting her seated on his face so badly his mouth watered.

He was so eager she had to brace her hands against the wall or lose her balance. He was inquisitive. Lightly circling his tongue around her already red clit. Licking from her entrance to it. Delving his tongue inside of her, his nose brushing against the bundle of nerves as he moved to catch every drop of her on his tongue.

She loved all of it. But his touch was gentler than she expected considering his own tastes. Gentler than she needed. She began rocking her hips. Julian got the message.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs, keeping her from writhing or pulling away when his tongue stopped tracing circles and toyed directly with her clit. With no pauses Opal felt her peak coming too quickly. She wanted to languish in Julian's hands. To have him continue to look at her like she was predator and prey both. But he wouldn't let her escape. And she couldn't piece together a plea for him to slow down.

So Julian got what he wanted. She was trembling on top of him, and he prolonged her orgasm as long as he could with much lighter swirling of his tongue.

When Opal’s body went totally slack he guided her down next to him. His arm pulled her close. Her cheek against his chest.

Julian’s body was still obvious in its need. But he thought perhaps he'd put her through a bit much and tired her already. His pride at making her come apart was more than enough for him.

But eyes closed and breathing even, a sneaky hand found his cock again.

“Did you think me such a discourteous guest?” When he looked at her she fluttered her eyelashes like she was in a bad romance novel. Just to hear his laugh before he smothered it in her hair.

This time when she bit his lip Julian tasted copper. And then himself on her tongue. She hovered just above him circling her hips so his cock didn't enter but was smeared with her wetness. Opal continued until he was fairly certain he would die. 

When Opal finally sank down on him she stopped just after the head was fully inside. She delighted in his keening when she raised herself up and back down on such a small part of him. She took her time getting used to Julian's size. When she lowered herself all the way he shuddered, holding back to give her however long she needed to adjust.

She rode him slow and she knew it was driving him crazy. When Julian started to thrust his hips she raised herself up pulling his cock out completely.

“Nope. You're going to follow my rules. No moving or I stop.” And then she was on him again, going faster but not enough and she damn well knew it.

He ended up on the precipice twice, losing his control and trying to chase his orgasm with her cunt. And she left him frustrated both times.

The third time she was back to her slowest pace. Opal leaned forward, close enough that her short hair tickled Julian's face.

“You look like you need something.” Smiling like the devil when he knew he had you.

“I need you.”

“You need me what? I could give you a charm that is just fantastic for getting lost in a crowd.” Opal kept the kind of conversational tone for inquiring about the weather or the latest news. By voice alone you’d never guess Julian was buried in her sex.

“I need you to let me cum.” He was panting, was hoarse, just brushing a hand over his chest had him biting his lip.

“Alright. Beg.”

He was finally allowed to grip her hips, no concern for her after what he'd gone through.  
He pleaded and thanked her for every stroke. He went quiet only once eyes closed trying so hard to reach his end. Opal slowed his rhythm when he did, not forcing him to stop but letting completion slip a little further away.

He did not go quiet again.

“Fuck- oh please let me- you feel so fucking good Opal.” He'd sat up bouncing her in his lap. 

She tightened around him and he was finished.

Julian may have hit his head when he fell back. He probably wouldn't have felt a hammer to the skull at that moment. Opal got off of him and the bed with trembling thighs. He followed the way the meagre candle light played against her her form, eventually Julian fell asleep watching her clean herself at the basin.

Dawn was barely rising, peach crawling tentatively at navy. He was half conscious, shifting on the bed when he felt something fall from his cheek.

It was a scrap of paper. A small edge torn out of a notebook. But the writing was crisp.

'I hope to see you again soon Julian. -O’

Even when she was away she made his face hot. He turned back over to try to go back to sleep. He must've truly exerted himself to feel the slightest bit of remaining soreness in his thighs. It would be be more rest than he got in the average week, but he did eventually fall back asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I had the urge and so I wrote. I apologise if my language was too strong for some.


End file.
